


Stay Alive ‘Til This Horror Show Is Past

by Tegami



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Reveal, Stiles has tattoos, Stiles wears Derek's leather jacket, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witch Stiles Stilinski, and, but nothing graphic, mostly this is nothing but, stiles keeping secrets, still be careful pls, there's description of violence but i swear it's just a tiny lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tegami/pseuds/Tegami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski thought of himself as the master of bad spur-of-the-moment decisions. Getting his best friend turned into a werewolf because he’d thought finding half of a dead body in the woods at night would be ‘cool‘ and ‘fun‘ was only the beginning of a long, long list. So when Stiles got semi-permanent tattoos all over his arms in winter without even once thinking it could maybe become a pain in the ass to hide in the summer? He didn’t surprise himself, really.</p><p>Or, the one where Stiles is a witch covered in sigils but didn't tell anybody why he's covering his arms all summer. Derek jumps to conclusions and A Reveal ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'm going to stick to one version of supernatural!Stiles, but today is not that day.
> 
> Title is from Hamilton's "Stay Alive" because I'm trash and there's a reference in there. It's way too angst-y for the fic, actually, but who cares! Not me!
> 
> Still, there's talk about self-harm in here and past mental problems, and even though it's not graphic, TAKE CARE. I'd rather have you not read my fic than be triggered.
> 
> Unbeta'd, please let me know if you find any mistakes.

Stiles Stilinski thought of himself as the master of bad spur-of-the-moment decisions. Getting his best friend turned into a werewolf because he’d thought finding half of a dead body in the woods at night would be ‘cool‘ and ‘fun‘ was only the beginning of a long, long list. So when Stiles got semi-permanent tattoos all over his arms in winter without even once thinking it could _maybe_ become a pain in the ass to hide in the summer? He didn’t surprise himself, really.

It’d just all been so logical. He‘d spent his winter break cuddled up in a thousand blankets and pillows, expanding his already freaking huge knowledge on witchcraft and especially sigils. It was how he spent most of his free time lately when he wasn’t being chased by the monster of the week.

Because here’s the thing: Stiles didn’t remember much about his mom anymore, no matter how much he’d always tried. But what he did remember was a smiling woman with beautiful hands that created even more beautiful things. As long as he could remember, he’d known that his mother was a witch and that this made him half witch, half human.

When he was young, he’d hated it. To him, it’d been exactly like how his mom had been polish, and he was half polish. Most people were fully functioning, and Stiles felt half functioning on a good day. Only one half of Stiles ever seemed to matter.

Sure, being half a witch sounded a lot cooler than being fully human, but growing up with magical powers that looked like bad party tricks in comparison to what his mom could create hadn’t left Stiles with high self esteem about them.

After his mom died, this was only one of the reasons why he stopped practicing his magic. Mainly, he couldn’t stand the painful reminder of what he’d lost. In addition to that, magic required a whole lot of concentration, and Stiles couldn’t even concentrate on eating enough, so magic was just off the map. And when year after year passed, Stiles developed a bigger growing fear of _What if he’d unlearned his powers? What if they were even weaker than before? What if he’d ruined one of the only things his mother had left him?_

It was also the reason why Stiles hadn’t ever told Scott anything, even after he’d went and turned himself into a werewolf. Because what would he’ve said? “Hey Scott, I’m kind of a witch, but don’t worry, I’m too terrified to do magic anyways”? No thank you.

It was a year ago that Stiles started using his powers again. It’d been a stupid coincidence, really. He’d been trying to beat Scott’s high score on Mario Kart (Rainbow Road, specifically) for about three days with minimum sleep and food when, just before the finishing line, a blue fucking shell had hit him full force. And, well, he’d needed to let out some frustration, so he’d slapped his hand on the floor he was sitting on as hard as possible. If his dad had ever moved the couch back to its original place, he would’ve found a burned out whole in the carpet in the form of Stiles’s hand. Still, it’d been the best day Stiles had had in _years_.

Ever since then, he spent more time practicing his magic than doing anything else. At first, it sucked to be without mentor, but Google served him good company. Near Christmas of that year, Stiles finally dragged himself to Deaton, despite his fear that the guy might tell Scott. It turned out that Deaton had always known about his mom and had only been waiting for Stiles to show up. He didn’t know as much about witchcraft as Stiles had hoped, but he went home that evening with more books than he could carry.

So you could totally blame Deaton for giving him a book about sigils that could, if used correctly, enhance Stiles’s powers to something similar to what his mom was able to do. Honestly, even if Stiles would have thought about it for more than the five minutes that he did, he wouldn’t have come to another conclusion than that he would _have_ to use them.

 

***

 

“Der-bear, I know that my sight is stunning as ever, but would you stop eye-fucking me in public?”, Stiles said. And with ‘public’, he meant the woods in which the pack was currently training. (Stupid werewolves with their stupid immunity to temperature and their stupid allergy to shirts. Really, _he_ should be the one staring.)

In any other situation that line would have felt lame, but right now, Stiles felt too unnerved from Derek’s look to care much. He just couldn’t shake off the feeling that at some point he didn’t get some memo and werewolves could somehow look through clothes.

The guy didn’t even flinch. If Stiles wouldn’t have felt - sigils were _awesome_ \- a hint of embarrassment on Derek, he wouldn’t have believed it was there. “I wasn’t staring”, Derek said. “I’m just wondering how you’re not hyperventilating.” With which he meant, ‘how the fuck you’re wearing flannel at 100°F without bursting into flames’.

“Abominable Snowman, remember?”, Stiles just said. He seriously didn’t know what he’d say if Derek would ask again, but in that moment, Jackson made a foolish attempt at attacking Derek from behind, and that was that.

When they went back to the Hale House, though, Stiles could still feel Derek’s stare on him.

 

***

 

Somehow, Stiles managed to survive the summer after graduation without his dad or Scott or, God forbid, Derek seeing his arms. Shit, he had even missed out on the most epic pack holiday ever just because some asshole (Jackson) had had the fabulous idea to go to the pacific. His dad didn’t notice how he only hung around with Danny for a week and the pack thought he was on a holiday with his dad, photoshopped pictures included.

And it wasn’t like he’d _hated_ basically clubbing for an entire week, but it had become increasingly frustrating not to hook up with anybody. Because if his friends and family weren’t allowed to see Stiles without shirt, then some random stranger sure as hell wasn’t, either. Also, you never knew who would recognize the sigils. Beacon Hills had some crazy people in it, man.

As autumn came, things almost seemed to be getting back to normal. Sure, he went away to college which literally changed his whole life, but with what Stiles’s life had been like before? It was kind of boring, really. Especially since the supernatural creature of the week had turned more into the creature of the month and then the creature of the year. By the time Stiles got home for winter break, he almost hoped for some crazy shit to happen.

Sure, he was also glad to see his dad again and join pack meetings for real instead of over Skype, no matter how hilarious it had been to watch Scott (who was training to become a vet) fumble with the program for so long that Derek had to go over to his house and teach him how to use a damn computer that one time. And let’s be honest, seeing Derek in HQ instead of over his shitty iPhone camera wasn’t a bad thing, either.

So yeah, having the pack back together was awesome and really exciting for a week or so, but after that? Stiles basically spent his time cooking for his dad and practicing magic because his dorm buddy made that kind of difficult in College. It was bad enough that the guy had accidentally seen the runes on his body early in the semester. He’d at least agreed not to tell anybody about the “tattoos” because Stiles’s “dad would go crazy”, but it still had been stressful as hell.

So, when Stiles got a text in the pack’s group chat from Derek late at night, stating _“something might be off, don’t know what so far. you guys better watch out”_ , it only felt a little weird how excited he was that something was happening again in this damned town.

 

***

 

Let’s just say that Stiles’s excitement didn’t last very long. To be certain, it lasted for three days, until he lay on the forest ground with a certain Alpha next to him after taking a swim in a lake in the forest surrounding Beacon Hills.

Because the thing was this: it was fucking January, Stiles was wet and muddy all over and said swim in the fucking _frozen_ lake hadn’t been voluntary, either. Also, Derek wasn’t lounging next to Stiles on a freaking picnic blanket or something, no, he was wolfed out and still tearing that _thing_ apart that had just tried to pull Stiles in. God, this was why he didn’t like to join Derek on his 6 am morning check up walk things.

He still hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the thing that’d tried to kill him just a minute ago, but from the sound of Derek’s claws and teeth in its flesh, Stiles sure didn’t want to, now. He preferred not to give the new protagonist of his nightmares a face and besides, he was pretty busy with freezing to death anyways, so thank you but no thank you.

At some point, Derek must have decided that the thing was dead enough now, because he gripped Stiles wrist and yanked him up. Before he realized what the guy was doing, Derek had already shouldered off his own leather jacket, and was starting to zip open Stiles’s hoodie.

With a heart that felt like it was pounding louder than it had all morning, near-death experience and everything included, Stiles leapt back and almost fell down again in his hurry to get away from Derek. Even though it felt like the water on his body had already turned to ice again, Stiles made sure that his hoodie got back in place and covered his hands. Only then did he notice the hurt/confused/still red-eyed look he was getting and was able to think _‘Smooth, Stiles.’_

“So...,” Stiles dragged the word out and tried really hard not to let it show how much his teeth were chattering, “How about we go somewhere warm?”

Stiles forced himself to meet Derek’s look, but it was hard. “How about you get rid of your soaked clothes?”, he only said.

“Nah man, I’m good. Just, carry me somewhere warm Twilight-style or something, okay?” Honestly, Stiles didn’t think that it was the worst idea. He could’ve cringed at his own bad try at sounding nonchalant, though.

But Derek only sighed and uncrossed his arms. “Stiles, I’ve noticed that something’s up with you. I mean, we all have. You basically spent the whole last winter at home, and don’t get me started on flannel at 100°. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Just- Just get out of that hoodie and into this jacket, let’s go somewhere warm and we’ll talk about this, alright?”

So. This he didn’t expect. Well, he hadn’t thought that Derek was stupid, but that he’d figured it all out? On the other hand, Stiles had almost expected that the Hales must have known _something_ about his mother, so maybe...?

Stiles just stared at Derek for a few (painfully cold) seconds and finally gave up. “Oh God, you’re right. Give me that thing, I’m freezing over here. Just- no comments about the marks, okay?”

Stiles grabbed the jacket while Derek nodded seriously. “I would never”, he said.

Wow. He really handled this better than Stiles had imagined. Honestly, he’d expected some disappointment at least.

He pulled his hoodie plus t-shirt over his head with a heart pumping louder than he’d ever admit. It didn’t help when Derek gasped audibly and just continued staring at Stiles’s chest when it was already covered again with Derek’s own (unexpectedly cosy) leather jacket.

Crossing his arms in an attempt to look stoic and not childish, Stiles said: “Dude, gasping and staring does _so_ count as commenting!”

When Derek opened his mouth, what came out was basically only a stutter. “Your- but you- these- did you- did you get these- tattoos- without your father knowing?”

“What the- I mean, yeah, he doesn’t know, but what does that have to do with anything?” When Stiles’s mom died, he’d just stopped talking to his father about magic. If he would do it now, it’d feel like he’d break some secret rule.

Finally, Derek looked Stiles in the eyes again. “I thought you were harming yourself!”, he burst out.

Stiles blinked. And blinked. He felt his mouth open like a reflex, but his brain couldn’t come up with anything for once, so he closed it again. Derek was also just staring at him, a mix of anger and... _something_ on his face. Concern, or sadness, or both. Stiles wanted to apologize and opened his mouth again, but realized that this was stupid because he didn’t do anything. Now that his mouth was open again, though, his brain decided to let everything out that it could come up with.

“You- but I- There aren’t- No. I would _never_ \- I mean, thank _God_ not! And, don’t you- I didn’t think that- What the _hell_ , man?!” Stiles mentally patted himself on the back. Such eloquence. Much moving. Wow.

Derek seemed to have recovered from most of the shock and crossed his bare arms again. “You wouldn’t show anybody your arms, and you weren’t at _all_ subtle about it, like when you wouldn’t go on that holiday with us. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time alone. Shit, even Scott noticed that something was up. _Scott_ , Stiles. Also, one time last summer, you had ‘Stay Alive’ written on your hand! I mean, c’mon!”

Stiles stared at his slightly shaking hands, even though there was nothing on them now. It took him a few seconds to remember, but when he did, he used one hand to facepalm. “Oh my God. That was during my ‘Hamilton’ phase.” Derek didn’t look any less irritated. “The Musical? I listened to it all the time and always forgot where I stopped. ‘Stay Alive’ is a _song_ , dude.”

Derek looked downright furious now. “How were we supposed to know _that_? What did you expect us to think? That you just got into musical theatre and spontaneously decided to live out your rebellious teenage phase in the stupidest way possible at the same time?”

At first, Stiles had been mentally nodding along, because God, Derek was right, okay? But at the last part, he shouted in protest. “ _You_ have a tattoo!”

Derek’s eyes flared up red for a second, but Stiles forced himself not to step back. “Yes, I have a tattoo! One! Singular! That I _legally_ got as an _adult_ who is capable of choosing to have something to remind his dead family by, not some nonsense that’ll bother me for all my life!”

Stiles had completely forgotten that he couldn’t feel his legs. “Guess what? Same here! I am 19, remember? Shit, they’re not even _permanent_! And sorry that my powers just happen to be one of the only things that I’ve left from my mom and _so_ sorry if these runes help me control them better and oh my God you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

In the heat of the argument, Stiles had completely overlooked that Derek didn’t have to know about his ancestry after all, but his widened eyes gave it away now. For the second time today, Stiles couldn’t think of something to say, so he just stared and waited.

Derek caught himself faster than last time. “Your powers.”

“Yeah, about that-“

“Please just tell me you’re nothing I’d have to hunt down.”

Stiles wanted to laugh, but Derek’s face was completely serious, so he suppressed his smile. Instead, he shook his head. “I don’t think- No. Witch. Well, half-Witch, I guess. My mom was one.”

Stiles saw Derek take a deep breath before talking. He seemed more resigned than anything. “I guess I should have seen that coming, really.” He paused, but continued talking before Stiles could ask about it.

“It makes sense, you know. My mother used to meet up with a witch from around here a lot until that suddenly stopped. She told me the woman moved away, but I could hear the lie. I was probably just too young for her to tell me. I knew that she had a family, too, but when I came back to Beacon Hills and there was still no trace of them, I assumed they’d moved away or just didn’t want to be found. And you-“

Stiles couldn’t stop the violent shudder that went through him as he watched Derek inhale his scent deeply. “You smelled completely human back when I met you. Maybe it’s because I know it now, but I can’t believe I didn’t notice this smell on you before.”

Stiles shrugged and talked through his shattering teeth. “I just hope I don’t smell like you’d imagine a witch would. But I didn’t practice back then and I _felt_ pretty much human, too, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d smelled like one.”

Derek only nodded. There was a strange silence between them as he looked down in the direction of the lake. It was weird to see Derek with such a sad expression and it made Stiles think. He’d been so understanding, so concerned about Stiles possibly self-harming that Stiles wondered if Derek, with his life being what it was, if he’d ever-

 _“Kyle?!”_ , Stiles exclaimed. He’d followed Derek’s gaze down to where he’d forgotten the monster was lying; only that what was left of it sure didn’t look like a monster. In between the shredded-looking leftovers of his body – whatever the form of said body had been, Stiles couldn’t tell – was the expressionless face of Kyle Parker, 20 year old medic student, neat freak and beer pong extraordinaire.

Stiles forced himself to look away from those open, lifeless eyes - hello, new nightmares -, looked up at Derek with a gaze that he suspected was just as confused as Derek’s and said, “This guy, he’s my roommate! At college!”

“Huh.” Derek scratched the back of his neck, which should have looked awkward if it wasn’t for his triceps. “Living with you must’ve been a blast.”

“Ha. Ha. I am a perfectly bearable roommate, thank you very much. And even if I wasn’t, drowning me in a lake seems a little excessive, doesn’t it?” Stiles thought for a second before he remembered the obvious and face palmed.

“He saw my runes! A few months ago. I didn’t think it was a big deal back then because he just seemed like some normal dude, you know? I just made him swear that he wouldn’t tell anyone because my dad would flip a table if he knew and that was that for me, I guess. He had enough opportunities to suffocate me in my sleep, anyway, so no idea what he’s doing here.”

Derek only shrugged. “I don’t even know what he’s supposed to be. He didn’t look human earlier, besides his face. We should get him to Deaton.”

“More like, what’s left of him. You can carry him in a trash bag or something. I’m not helping you pick that up.” Alright, maybe Stiles was getting cranky, but he was seriously starting to miss the feeling in his body, okay?

“Hey, he’s _your_ roommate”, Derek retorted.

“And _you_ ripped him into hard-to-carry-sized pieces.”

“To save _your_ butt from drowning, remember?”

“Nothing I haven’t done for you before.”

Derek had seemed honestly offended before, but this made him crack a rare almost-smile. “Fair enough. Let’s just get out of here and come back later.” Stiles sighed in relief, but Derek hesitated. “Wait. Or- Can’t you, like”, he made a hand gesture that looked like he was sprinkling sparkly magic dust around, “magically transport him out of here?”

Stiles wanted to laugh, but he didn’t because he felt like he couldn’t blame Derek for his cluelessness when he was the one who didn’t talk about his magic to anybody. “Dude, no. That’s way too hard. I don’t know how to do it, and if I did, I’d have to sleep for a few weeks or something. _Half_ witch, remember?”

Derek seemed genuinely disappointed. “Just a thought”, he mumbled.

“You’re forgiven. I couldn’t stay mad for long with freezing toes anyway. Can we _please_ just go to your house and get me in a hot tub or something?”

Stiles had imagined these things before, but he was _pretty_ sure that Derek licking his lips didn’t have anything to do with them being dry. Finally, he shrugged. “Alright. You really want me to carry you?”

 _“Hell yes”_ , Stiles said, a little too fast. When Derek’s eyebrows shot up, he added in a weak attempt of No Homo while everything about him was clearly screaming YES HOMO, “The faster I get warm, the better.”

Derek didn’t say anything else and let Stiles climb on his back before making a run in the direction of his renovated house. Stiles had to try hard not to make any more Twilight references and said nothing instead, trying not to think too hard about the toned chest under his fingers.

When they were almost there, Derek said over the sound of the wind rushing past them, “By the way, don’t think I’ve forgiven you for not telling the pack about the witch thing.

That’s important information, and it’s not like anybody would have judged you. Well, maybe Jackson, but he’s judging us all already. You’re going to tell them while you’re here, alright?”

“Alright, I will. I always knew that I had to, eventually.” And maybe it was because Stiles didn’t have to look Derek in the eye like this, or because his nose was full of the smell of Derek’s hair, or because his teeth wouldn’t stop chattering now except when he was talking, but he told Derek what he’d barely thought about himself.

“I just- After my mom died, I didn’t do any magic. At all. For years. At first, I didn’t want to be reminded of her, and then I wasn’t sure if I even still could. So at the point where I found out about the whole werewolf thing, I didn’t even feel like I had any witch blood in me. And since I’ve started practicing again-“, Stiles breathed a few times, because he didn’t breathe enough when he was talking sometimes and the cold wind didn’t help either.

“In the beginning, I wanted to know what I could do before talking to anybody about it. And then, I wanted my dad to be the first one to know that I was practicing again, but it’s been years since I’ve talked to him about magic at all. It’d feel wrong to start now, you know?”

Derek nodded, which made Stiles painfully aware of how close they were. For the first time, he was kind of glad for his freezing lower part. “I think your dad might just be waiting for you to start talking about it again. I don’t see why he’d be against you ‘practicing’, whatever that includes. Even though,” he said just as they broke through the last trees before the clearing. Letting Stiles down on his own wobbly legs onto the house’s veranda, he repeated, “Even though he’ll definitely kick your ass for those tattoos.”

“I told you, they’re not permanent! I mean, they can be, but I could let them fade if I wanted.”

Derek almost smiled. “So you’re telling me your dad won’t mind?”

Stiles hesitated for a second before turning around. “Shut up”, he said and promptly regretted heading for the door because Derek was laughing a little and he’d missed a chance to see that. As he entered the house, though, the warmth washed away every little feeling he’d had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i’ve heard that the heat in California works differently from where i come from but with 100° i basically mean that it’s REALLY fucKING HOT ok
> 
> Also, the "Stay Alive" thing is based on a true story.
> 
> ALSO also, this reminds me of my favourite children’s book where after every chapter a chicken says “This story could’ve ended here… but it didn’t!” So, yeah. Read on if you wanna, but be prepared that it’ll become sappier and sappier. It's awesome.


	2. Bonus 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, and more fluff!!

It was like the pressure of Derek knowing was exactly what Stiles had needed in order to bring himself to tell everybody. Over the course of the break, he started by having an emotional talk with his dad (who was actually relieved that Stiles was doing magic again and only slightly pissed about the runes – it turned out his mom had had a few on her hip as well), then with Scott (who was kind of angry, but happy that he was the first one in the pack to know. Stiles didn’t mention Derek), and then the whole pack (who had different reactions from angry and disappointed to excited, but were all glad that he wasn’t actually hurting himself. Apparently, they had an intervention planned and Stiles never loved a group of people as much as he did then).

By the time the break was over Stiles was actually glad to go back to college. There were only so many heartfelt one-on-one talks he could have in the span of a few weeks, and that number had definitely been exceeded. Maybe, just maybe, he was also a little bitter that he hadn’t gotten any alone time with the only person he’d really wanted it with (hint: it was Derek). It was like without his secret distracting Stiles, he had no other choice than to notice that _something_ between them. But then school started again, and Stiles was sucked back into his everyday life.

The first few weeks were nothing but strange. As awesome as it was that Stiles had the dorm room for himself, he still had to sleep in a room with all of Kyle’s old stuff. People kept asking him about Kyle, and he kept repeating that he didn’t know where he was. Or what he was, for that matter. Deaton had pretty much given up, even though he wouldn’t admit it to them.

One month into the school year, Stiles deemed it appropriate to report that Kyle was missing to the school. One month later, a woman that looked like Kyle’s mother but didn’t seem to be affected by him missing at all, came by and packed all of his stuff. Stiles’s instincts told him to go do something else just in case that whatever Kyle was had been inherited, but he also knew that he had a shit ton of spell books and other stuff that would give him away under his bed, so he helped the woman with the packing, careful that his runes weren’t visible.

Stiles called Derek when she was gone, but he said that Deaton thought Kyle was some kind of mutant and that Stiles shouldn’t worry. Sure enough, the woman never showed up again and a week later, Stiles got a new roommate. He seemed boring enough, but Stiles made sure to always lock the door when he was changing.

Weeks and months passed with the only change being how much he and Derek were texting. They’d started because Stiles wanted to stay up to date with Deaton’s investigation about Kyle The Mutant. Well, that was kind of a lie, because Scott was actually a better source for that, but neither Scott nor Derek never complained.

Over the course of the weeks, when they weren’t even thinking about Kyle anymore, they never stopped texting. Stiles loved bombarding Derek with emojis and getting grumpy grandpa-style texts in response. After a while, they started skyping once in a while, and once in a while turned into weekly turned into almost daily. By the time summer break got near, Stiles’s friends were calling Derek “your boyfriend” so much that neither Stiles nor Derek noticed it anymore.

 

***

 

When it was time to pack his stuff at the end of the semester to spend his summer in Beacon Hills, Stiles was inappropriately nervous. By now, he felt like there was no way Derek could interpret their relationship as platonic anymore. Stiles hadn’t made any obvious attempts at seduction, but flirting had definitely happened.

Still, there was a lingering doubt. He hoped desperately that Derek wasn’t just playing around. Or, worse yet, that Stiles was the one interpreting it all wrong and pining after what he couldn’t have, which seemed to be a specialty of his. Because if Stiles came home for the summer and had to deal with the humiliation of being rejected by Derek on top of sweating his ass off – it just wasn’t convenient. But then again, he’d had to promise all of his college friends that he’d make a move because they said they wouldn’t deal with Stiles’s pining for another semester, which was fair enough.

So, Stiles made sure that he was home a day before anyone else from the pack would arrive. Because if he’d see Derek again for the first time when they were with the pack, he would pretend like everything was as always, and Derek would do the same, and Stiles would convince himself that he’d only imagined everything after all and that would’ve been that.

So when Stiles knocked on the Hale House’s door with a trembling hand, he was almost hoping that Derek wouldn’t be there. By now, the only reason why he wasn’t turning around and driving home right this second was that Derek had definitely heard his Jeep approaching.

Stiles didn’t hear an answer, but the door was always open anyways, so he let himself in. Even though it was pleasantly cool inside the house, Stiles got out of his sweat jacket, simply because this and his dad’s house were the only places where he could anymore. He threw the jacket on an armchair in the living room and looked around. The curtains were mostly closed, but Stiles didn’t know if it was as a sign of Derek’s absence or as method to keep the heat outside.

Just as he wanted to call something he’d regret afterward along the lines of “Daddy’s home”, he heard footsteps on the stairs. And, sure enough, when Stiles turned around, Derek was coming through the door. Stiles had kind of hoped that he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt, since he tended to do that anyway and it would’ve been appropriate for once in the humid weather, but the form fitting shirt might just be worse. God, Stiles had almost forgotten how _real_ Derek looked when you stood in front of him. The only problem was-

“Stiles”, he said, but both his tone and his gaze lacked the relieve / longing / happiness that Stiles had maybe possibly quietly hoped for. Instead, Derek’s brows were pulled together. He stopped a disappointing few steps away from him. Stiles felt the remaining bit of confidence drain out of him. He opened his mouth, but Derek made another step forward and said: “Are you okay? Your heart is racing. Badly.”

Stiles would have laughed if he wasn’t still so nervous. He should seriously stop assuming the worst all the time. “No, I’m okay”, he said hastily, but Derek’s frown only deepened. “I’m just- glad to be here, I guess?”

“Um”, Derek said, scratching his upper arm and eyes darting around, “me too? I mean, seriously. I didn’t expect to see you today already, to be honest. When did you arrive?”  
Stiles hated this. He hated small talk anyways, but this dancing around the subject was so. Much. Worse. For a painful moment, Stiles thought that if this was a rom-com, there’d be someone else upstairs in Derek’s bedroom right now.

But this was real life, as unlikely as it seemed, and Stiles realized that he trusted Derek too much to believe he’d do anything like that. Somewhere between that and the fact that Derek kept looking at Stiles’ rune-covered arms with something unreadable in his expression, Stiles decided to just fuck it all. If he didn’t do it now, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, and he was really fucking exhausted. Besides, the only thing he had to do was talk, and that shouldn’t be a problem.

So, Stiles tried real hard not to think about if he’d ever be able to sleep again if Derek would reject him right now, opened his mouth and just let his brain do its thing. “Just now. I mean, I just got home and left my stuff there, but dad is at the station anyways, so I thought, fuck it, why not do this now.” Stiles breathed once, but didn’t let Derek time to ask what he was talking about.

“Okay, you know I can be a huge mess and everything, and I’ve had this big crush on Lydia for this ridiculously long time which I’m sure _everybody_ knows about at this point, but I’ve never really. You know. Believed that anything would come out of it, I guess? That she’d be interested in me. And when we actually became friends, I basically lost interest at once, and I’m pretty sure talking about my ex-crush is the complete wrong way to do this, but here I am. Anyways, I haven’t ever had any illusions over my chances with her, and I hope what I’m doing right now isn’t the opposite of that, I guess. What I’m saying is that this would be _really_ awkward if I’ve been interpreting the last few months wrong, but there was that one time where you were high on that wolfsbane stuff and- and basically, I’m just-“

Stiles breathed deep and forced his eyes to meet Derek’s gaze but stopped at his lips, “I just really want to kiss you right now.”

There were a few seconds of silence in which Stiles felt like he’d been talking slightly too loud. He would’ve given anything to be able to hear Derek’s heartbeat or smell his feelings or anything, really, that might’ve told him what the man was thinking, but his own nerves made it impossible to focus on his powers. Because Derek’s face, as always, gave nothing away. He wasn’t frowning, at least, but the crossed arms were what made Stiles’ heart jump nervously.

After what felt like ages, Derek freed his arms, said, “Was that monologue about Lydia really necessary?”, and closed the distance between him and Stiles so fast that he couldn’t even answer before he was forced to shut up by Derek’s lips on his.

Stiles had kissed people before. Heck, he’d pretty much kissed the whole pack after that one birthday party for Isaac they’d all agreed not to talk about. But he hadn’t kissed anyone in months, and he’d sure as hell never kissed _Derek_. Or anybody who he was that attracted to, that is. And, honestly, this was _the shit._

To Stiles, kissing had only ever been something to do to pass the time, but _this_. Stiles felt like he could do nothing but touch Derek’s lips with his for the rest of his life. Even though there were colliding teeth and those embarrassing noises Stiles made, there were also the noises that _Derek_ made and lips and tongues and _lips_.

And suddenly, the approaching summer didn’t feel so daunting anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “This story could’ve ended here… but it didn’t!”


	3. Bonus 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a serious but fluffy talk...?

It was hard to remember why Stiles had ever complained about hot summer days in moments like these; when the pack was off to some water park that he couldn’t and Derek didn’t want to go to; when the two of them had the house and the day for themselves; when college was far enough away that Stiles didn’t think about it anymore and didn’t have to stress about the next semester yet; when the heat both forced and allowed them to do nothing but lay in bed in their underwear all day.

Well – it forced Stiles to do so, and Derek didn’t complain.

It must’ve been noon, but Stiles hadn’t checked his phone in a while. Even though the curtains were closed, it was way too warm to do anything sexual, let alone cuddle, so they were just lying there, together, next to each other, and didn’t do a damn thing. It was awesome.

Stiles, lying on his stomach, hadn’t noticed he’d fallen into light sleep again until Derek’s touch woke him up. There was a second of confusion before Stiles looked back and understood that Derek was tracing his runes with a finger. He was just focusing on one that Stiles knew resembled a fancy Z between his shoulder blades. It made a shiver run down his spine, but it was a pleasant sensation in the humid air. He saw Derek smile, who was propped up on his elbows.

“You’re really beautiful”, Derek said, meeting Stiles’ eyes. He shivered again, this time because of Derek’s words instead of his touch. And the thing was this: Stiles believed him.

There was a time where he wouldn’t have, especially not when it came from a person looking like Derek, but he heard those words and saw those eyes and couldn’t help but sigh in contentment.

“Thank you”, Stiles said, because he meant it.

The way Derek was looking at his runes in amazement and appreciation had Stiles thinking about the shocked expression he’d worn the first time he’d seen them. They’d talked about the whole thing a few times, laughed about it, but Stiles had never been able to shake off a weird feeling in his stomach.

Well, it shouldn’t have been surprising that at first Derek and then the whole pack had thought Stiles was hiding scars under his long sleeves. He should’ve expected that, really, now that he thought about it. What made Stiles’ chest still hurt was the way Derek had talked to him.

Because here was the thing: Derek was an ass. Even though it had gotten better in the few years since he’d returned to Beacon Hills, and even though he had every reason to with his hell of a life story, and even though he was almost lovely to Stiles nowadays; he was still an asshole sometimes. So the way Derek had talked to him about self harming –

_“Let’s go somewhere warm and we’ll talk about this.”_

_“No comments about the marks, okay?” - “I would never.”_

Derek wasn’t ever this _nice_ about anything. Sure, he could be _kind_ nowadays, but never _nice_. It wasn’t the first time that Stiles had wondered if there’d been something in Derek’s time after the fire, after Kate, but before the pack that none of them knew about. They’d talked about Kate before and Stiles always made an effort to respect certain boundaries for Derek, but he’d never mentioned anything about self-harm regarding himself and Stiles had never asked.

In fact, he wasn’t going to do it now, either. That is, until Derek’s hand stopped and he started talking before Stiles could protest: “What are you thinking about?”

“Why do you ask?”, Stiles said to buy time, even though he knew the answer.

“You smell like-“, Derek thought for a moment, “Like concern. And tension, I guess.”

Stiles could just lie. He’d mastered the art of lying to a werewolf long ago, and it made Derek furious. He could tell him he’d just thought about the workload he’d have once next semester started, or how they wouldn’t see each other for at least a few months, or how his dad wasn’t doing as well as he’d hoped he would since Stiles had moved out.

He had a lot to choose from to be concerned about, really. But as much as he didn’t feel like having this conversation with Derek, as much did he know that no better opportunity would arise.

“I’ve just been thinking about the sigils”, Stiles’ said slowly, trying to choose his words wisely for once. “About how you guys thought that I’d been- hurting myself. Which I don’t blame you for, really, because I was a doofus.” He paused to take a long breath through his nose and think, but Derek didn’t interrupt him.

“But when you saw the runes for the first time... You were so _understanding_. About self-harm and stuff. I don’t- I mean, you don’t have to answer this, you really don’t, and I’m fine not knowing, but did you ever- you know? I mean-“

Derek, who’d lain down on his back next to him, finally interrupted Stiles when he fell back into his usual ranting. “Don’t worry”, he said towards the ceiling. “It’s been years, and you know I can’t permanently injure myself.”

“That’s-“, Stiles began and paused, “That’s not the point. You know that, right?” He didn’t look away from Derek’s eyes even though the latter only closed his.

“I know. I know, it’s just- It’s okay, Stiles. Really. _I’m_ okay. You don’t need to worry.”

“Are you sure?”, Stiles asked again, hoping that he wasn’t being too annoying. He knew that there were things Derek had to work out himself, but this was some serious shit.

“Because you know that you tend to bottle everything up? And you’ve gotten better at not doing that, but this is serious.”

Derek didn’t react for a long moment. Stiles wasn’t even sure he was breathing. “I just want you to be okay”, he said silently. If it wasn’t for werewolf hearing, he’d have repeated it.

Finally, Derek took a deep breath, his chest rising, and opened his eyes to meet Stiles’s. “I love you”, he said, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile. Derek swallowed, but this time he didn’t look away. “You know that I was in a really bad place after the fire. Laura was, too, but she’d worked through most of her baggage by the time we went to New York, and I hadn’t. At all. It took her some time, but she eventually convinced me to go see a therapist. I couldn’t tell her everything, obviously, but it helped a lot. And- maybe I’m still not okay, not at all, because nobody really is, but I’m okay enough.”

Stiles made a point to nod and think before saying anything. Derek opening up like this was rare, even though he’d gotten much better at it, and he didn’t want his dumb brain to ruin anything.

“That’s good. That’s very good”, he said, “So you stopped seeing her when you came here? Or-”

Derek interrupted Stiles by reaching over his head and stretching his arms. God, he was _beautiful_. “No, I’d actually stopped going a few months before that. I don’t know why I never told you, honestly. It’s just like…” He trailed off, and Stiles just wanted to say something when Derek looked at him and asked: “Can I say something really sappy?”

Stiles tried not to laugh and failed. “Dude, as if I’d ever say no to that.”

Derek only smiled and lay a hand on Stiles shoulder, running a thumb over a circular rune there, over and over and over. “I felt like this summer was too beautiful for sad stories.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, so he gave his lips something else to do. Derek looked happy enough when he finally pulled away, so he assumed that a kiss had been answer enough.

Stiles ignored the heat and lay his head on Derek’s stomach. “I don’t know, I think the summer just became even _more_ beautiful.” He just felt the rise and fall for a few long moments. Then he looked up and said, “You know what’d be even _more more_ beautiful, though?”

Derek frowned. “What?”

“Ice cream”, Stiles grinned. He expected Derek to roll his eyes, but maybe the heat had made him weak, because he only smiled and let his head fall back on the mattress.

“I’ll pay if you drive.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, but that's seriously it now.
> 
> Disclaimer: I know comically few things about Teen Wolf because I’ve never actually watched the show. If something doesn’t make sense or seems ooc to you, please tell me and i’ll fix it asap.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Shout at me on twitter @ayylienboy to write more! Leave a comment and tell me what you hated!


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